Harry Potter and The Dark Lord (Chapters 1 - 4)
by Charlotte Nash
Summary: This is a dark story - Harry's last year at Hogwarts - Lord Voldemort is still in power - everyday a new horror... will Harry's last year truly be his last year?


Harry Potter

& The Dark Lord

Chapter 1 - Hoping for a holiday

Harry Potter, sitting inside his bedroom, late at night, was staring outside the window wistfully, his left hand keeping him balanced by the windowsill. He was keeping an eye for any sign of a snowy white owl - Hedwig had gone hunting, and Harry secretly hoped she might bring him a message: from Sirius, Ron, or Hermione - or Hagrid.

Harry sighed and stared at the calendar he had pinned on his wall. He wished the days would run faster - according to the number of crosses on the calendar, he still had five weeks to go with the Dursleys. His eyes tore themselves away from the calendar and he looked out unto the starry sky. He imagined what his next year at Hogwarts would be like, something he always did when he wasn't there. He gave a small shudder - he knew he would be taking their O.W.Ls for the very last time this year - it was his _final_ year at Hogwarts.

It was a constant ache to be away from it - but the thought of leaving it was even worse. So, maybe he was 18, and was legally entitled to pack up and leave, but where could he go? The Dursleys had to keep him for fear of Sirius' wrath (Harry smiled to himself) but he didn't want to stay there forever. And he had no muggle money. That was something that had been in Harry's mind for ages - where do wizards live, if they don't interact in the muggle world?

Hermione probably would know, having read every book in the library that Hogwarts offered (almost). For that matter, Ron would probably know as well, seeing as he was from a pureblood wizarding family.

But for that moment a fluttering of wings brought him to his senses. Hedwig landed swiftly through the window, looking pleased with herself. A small mouse dangled from her beak, and tied to her leg was a note. Harry stroked Hedwig's head affectionately and took off the note with his other hand. She stared at him silently, knowing by now it was unwise to hoot at night in Privet Drive, and then landed on her perch and lapped up the water there eagerly.

Harry, about to undo the note, was suddenly alerted again when something with the force of a small bullet hit him on the side of his head. He looked up crossly to see Pigwidgeon zooming about. Pig had never quite gotten out of the habit of hitting the recipients of the message.

"Get down here," Harry hissed.

Pigwidgeon zoomed straight into Harry, and Harry quickly undid the note before the excitable little bird flew off again. Hedwig now could just about tolerate Pig, and she allowed him a sip of her water. Pig then shot up into the air, and sailed off into the night, and could be heard hooting madly in the distance.

Harry picked up the note Hedwig had gave him. He uncrumpled it, and it read:

__

_Dear Harry,_

_ Hope you're well. I'm sorry I've not been in touch for a while, but you know how dangerous it is nowadays. It's hard to believe you've gotten so far - you're at your last year already! I'm hoping that you'll get top O.W.Ls. I'm also hoping you'll be chosen as head boy. Your dad had the best fun when he was head boy, believe me - you get to access loads of parts of the school you wouldn't be allowed in normally. We found some great passages - in fact, I think one leads to the back of the Potions dungeon - but don't try any funny stuff on Snape - yet. I hope the muggles aren't worried too much about you and Voldemort._

__Harry had never bothered telling the Dursleys that he was in danger; the chances that the Dursleys would hand him straight over were considerably high.

_ Buckbeak and I are fine. We don't have as much trouble getting about as we used to - I acquired a battered old tent from a muggle who dumped it. Of course, the Dementors aren't bothering with me anymore now they're serving Voldemort, but there's always Aurors about nowadays. _

_ I'll arrange a day to meet you at some point. I'm going to travel towards Hogsmeade again this year - I have some very interesting news for you. I think you'll find it good news._

__

_Sirius_

__

__Harry wondered at first what the news could be, and was about to slide under the sheets and sleep on it when he remembered he hadn't read Ron's message. He seized the parchment, and unrolled it. Ron's scrawly writing came into view.

Harry -

__

_Guess what? The Chudley Cannons made it to the finals in the British Quidditch league! I'm really excited; I hope they win._

_Dad said you can't stay here this summer - we're having wizard builders in. Ginny accidentally blew open the living room because she picked up one of Fred's and Georges fake wands that are supposed to only go "pop" - she picked up the prototype, unfortunately. Don't tell mum I told you that, because Fred and George don't really deserve any more hassle, and neither does Ginny, who lied to cover for them._

_But, we're going to not be in the house whilst the work's done._

Harry's heart sank. He would have done anything to escape the Dursleys.

__

_Harry, listen - we're going to pick you up to take you with us! We're going to stay out in the countryside with one of Dad's colleagues at the Ministry. It's near a muggle village, but it's a huge house, with high walls around the gardens so we can play Quidditch and stuff. Also, Fred and George say they've got some stuff they want you to test - for their joke shop thing. Don't worry, you won't have a 4-foot tongue, trust me - they've made some excellent stuff; even mum thinks its good enough not to throw away._

_Be ready on July 14th, 12:00pm, and tell the muggles to unblock the fireplace this time. We couldn't get ministry cars this year._

__

_See you soon - Ron_

__

Harry suddenly felt warm and relieved, with a flush of excitement. A whole summer, promising to be filled with Quidditch practice! Harry looked at the calendar again. July 14th was only a week away!

Harry went over to his school trunk, and dragged out a checklist. He had finished his potions essay (he always did it first, to get rid of that leering feeling Snape left with the homework), he had also done his history of magic and transfiguration studies, and all he had left to do was divination (- "what factors can bring about misfortune"-).

Harry hated divination, but he wanted his work out of the way for the holiday. It didn't occur to him that the Dursleys might forbid him to go.

He turned his lights on, and fumbled at the lid of his ink bottle, and dipped his quill in it. He bought out a new sheet of parchment and wrote.

_What factors can bring about misfortune? _

__

Harry knew he had to list all the things that could bring about misfortune. It was actually a lot harder than he thought it would be, especially when he cut the most obvious ones (yet ridiculous) ones he could think of. Harry frowned in thought, but gave up, and decided to do his homework the regular way that he did for divination: improvisation.

1.Breaking an cursed mirror

2.Being hexed

Harry continued all through the night, ending at

236. Walking about blindfolded

237. Going in muggle building sites without hard hats

Harry knew it wouldn't earn him top marks, but it would do. His fingers hurt from writing. He threw his quill down and did up the ink bottle. He smoothed out the parchment to allow the ink to dry. He then got into bed.

"G'night, Hedwig." He muttered sleepily.

He shut his eyes, and all the thoughts in his heads swam away as he fell into sleep, a small contented smile on his face, his hair naturally untidy. His fringe was parted slightly from where he lay, revealing the lightning scar on his forehead to the sky.

"Master"

"Silence, Wormtail."

"It could be risky to your followers' faith, my lord"

"It will _not _fail." The cold voice replied, in a dangerously calm tone of voice - but there was a definite note of someone strained. There was silence.

"Now, Wormtail, you will go to him tonight. The plan will not fail. It will be all too easy. No one would suspect a thing"

The dark figure stood up. The brightly lit fire held purple and green coloured flames. The chair, which he had sat on, was similar to the style of the Riddle house.

A small balding man shivered a little. One of his hands shone a silvery glint.

"Mastershall I go now?"

"Yes."

"B-butit's too far! And, if I'm spotted"

"No one would know it was you. They're _muggles_. If any ask questions, kill them."

"Yes, my lord."

The man hurried towards the door, as though being chased forward by a whip, flinching a little. The door closed behind the man with a small click. A smile, almost a smirk, appeared on the face of the tall, gaunt figure, his red eyes glowing menacingly.

"Revengesweet revenge the boy will die. Dumbledore's strength will be gone. Hogwarts will be torn asunder. Then, the world will fall to its knees, at the wrath of Lord Voldemort."

He stared at the fire. The flames grew higher.

The purple/green flames turned even more green, and inside, a picture rose out of the centre of the flames in the purple colour - an image of muggles screaming, wizards dying, and lastly, a small boy, who was centred and surrounded with a small aura -

The boy would have looked like any other of those dying people, had there not been one distinguishing feature amongst the flame image.

A flick of green flame lay across his forehead

Next morning, Harry had walked downstairs, and felt as light as air, wondering at his good fortune. The only question was: how could he persuade the Dursleys to let him go? They were not to friendly towards the Weasleys, and the mayhem caused some years ago with Floo powder was not something that anyone would like to repeat. And it would be too dangerous to keep using Sirius as an excuse

Harry frowned in thought as he walked into breakfast. Dudley was eating muesli as part of his continued diet (he only lost 2 stone over two years) but that hadn't stopped him drowning it in full-fat milk and having heaped tablespoons of sugar on it. Aunt Petunia stared at Harry sourly.

"Breakfast." She said sharply, handing him a bowl of muesli, which looked as though someone had picked the raisins out of it. Harry knew Dudley was the culprit. Uncle Vernon stared at Harry with dislike, as usual. 

The moment Harry finished, the Dursleys stared at Harry expectantly - waiting for the moment he could leave their presence. Harry stood up, but did not leave. Now was time to ask

"Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon nearly spluttered into his tea with surprise, and stared at Harry - the time, distrustfully. He grunted in acknowledgement.

"The Weasley family have invited me on holiday with them this year," Harry began, holding the parchment tightly in one hand, having brought it out of his pocket.

The Dursleys looked at each other uneasily.

"They'll be picking me up on the 14th of July, 12:00pm."

"Howwill they pick you up?" Uncle Vernon asked, dangerously. Harry didn't flinch, he could see fear in his eyes, and besides which, Harry was growing to about the same height as Uncle Vernon now; he didn't intimidate him anymore.

"Floo powder. I'll unblock the fireplace for you this time, though." He added quickly.

"Flu powder, eh?" Uncle Vernon scoffed. "Ruddy people. Why should we let you go anyway - yes - what makes you so damn sure we'll let you go?"

"Uh-oh," Harry thought. His mind began to engage gear, thinking of a tack he could use. Suddenly, he had an idea. He had Sirius' letter in his pocket.

"Well, Sirius was just saying in his last letter how I should mix with more young wizpeople my age, y'know, outside of school and that. He's going to visit me soon."

"Visit you?!" Uncle Vernon gasped. Harry knew that the Dursleys would _hate_ a murderer in the house, let alone a wizard - most people would be scared of that, but the Dursleys hated the unusual - their pride came before their lives.

"'Course, said Harry, casually as possible. "Oh, please hope they fall for it," he thought to himself. He said, "See, it's written in his letter"

Uncle Vernon's eyes scanned the parchment, looking white and pale.

"Yeah he's right I'll - I'll go unplug the fireplacenow, in advance"

"Thanks!" said Harry cheerfully, but not overdoing it, hardly daring to believe his fortune, especially after what had happened last time. Okay, he had used the same excuse a few times, but soon it would be the last time he'd ever do it again. He was sure he had enough gold in his Gringotts account to buy a wizarding house. He would keep on reminding himself to ask Ron about that. Harry ran upstairs, leaping up them as though to catch up with his feelings.

Never had the days gone so slowly, as Harry waited for the day he could leave with Ron.

Chapter 2 - Cherry Manor

Harry had got up early, and eaten a good breakfast before the Dursleys had got up. He had sneaked back to his room and picked up his trunk, which was neatly packed with his Hogwarts things and his clothes. He had, however, kept his wand in his pocket. Also, he had put on his cloak, something he had never dared do with the Dursleys. This time round, he had nothing to be afraid of, not even Dudley. 

Dudley was looking much like uncle Vernon, but was as blond as aunt petunia. He was growing to be wider than Uncle Vernon, and was growing even more stupid. He had long left school, and skived off college. His G.C.S.Es had been quite terrible, which he howled with misery about when he learnt he couldn't be an astronaut. Uncle Vernon said he could be executive manager of Grunnings when he was a little older Harry felt sure he had said that to shut Dudley up, but he never commented as the Smeltings stick was still used in the household.

Harry dragged the trunk downstairs to the living room by himself. The Dursleys were not going to wait in the living room like last time, obviously, as Harry could see them locking themselves into the kitchen.

"Bye!" Harry called cheerfully. He then pulled his trunk into the living room, and ran back upstairs for Hedwig's cage. Hedwig was pleased to see Harry although it was daytime, and hooted sleepily when Harry bought her cage downstairs. Harry looked at the clock. It was nearly time. He waited.

At precisely five minutes later, a whoosh noise came from the fireplace, and Arthur Weasley appeared.

"Phew don't have to blast it again! Hello, Harry!"

"Hi, Mr. Weasley!" Said Harry with a smile. Suddenly, Fred and George stumbled out of the fireplace.

"Glad it's unblocked," said one of the twins, rushing forward.

"Hiya Harry!" said the other.

"Harry!" Ron suddenly fell out of the fireplace as well.

"All here?" said Mr. Weasley, looking round. "Good. Er - Harry - where are your relatives?"

"Locked in the kitchen," said Harry, siding a grin to Ron, who grinned back.

"Right," said Mr. Weasley, looking thankful, "Let's go back to the Burrow first, to pick up our stuff, shall we? We packed beforehand, but we didn't want to lug it through two Floo powder trips. Fred, you take the trunk first, with George."

"'Kay, Dad," said Fred. He and George picked it up and stood in the green flames.

"The Burrow!" they shouted. They vanished.

"Harry - you'd better send Hedwig along first by air," said Mr. Weasley. "We haven't been able to afford a new owl since Errolif you don't mind, I'd just like to send a quick message to my friend too, if that's"

"Sure, Mr. Weasley," Said Harry. Hedwig stretched out her leg obediently. Harry watched Mr. Weasley slip a piece of parchment on Hedwig's leg, and mutter a location. Hedwig sprung from Harry's shoulder and out of sight.

"Right, now - Ron - you and Harry next," said Mr. Weasley. Ron walked over to the fireplace. Harry followed. He stepped into the warm green flames.

"The Burrow!" they shouted together. With a whoosh, Harry fell onto the floor of the Burrow, leaving number 4 Privet Drive way behind in a few seconds. After he let his dizzy queasiness had gone, a surprising sight met his eyes.

The living room - or what was left of it - Had several white-robed wizards, with dust settling down on them, running about with wands, were levitating debris off the floor, and piecing it all back together, into various solid objects. Even a vase that looked smashed beyond repair (the shards were no bigger than a pin-head) suddenly fitted itself together like a complex jigsaw puzzle. Harry noticed one of them piece a whole broken brick back together, then shout "Gordon! 'nother one!" another wizard ran over, (presumably Gordon) and then said "_fixiatious_!" and the brick flew into a gap in the wall. Harry noticed that the wallpaper had repaired itself as well on that wall. There was dust everywhere in the room, and only a corner and two small stretches of wall had been pieced back together.

"Harry!" Ron called, making Harry jump. He had been engrossed watching the builders. "Harry, c'mon, we'll be leaving in five minutes, can you help me with my stuff?"

Ron beckoned Harry over as they walked across the dusty, noisy living room. Ron jumped up the stairs, three at a time, and Harry followed him into his room. It was still plastered in orange Chudley Cannon gear, but Harry could still see Ron's green shamrock hat in the corner of the room. The Quidditch World Cup still lingered in both their minds. Ron picked up one end of the trunk, and Harry followed suite.

"So, whereabouts in Britain is this place, anyway?" asked Harry, as they carried the trunk.

"Dunno," said Ron. "We're staying with Kyle Flian, he's in a member of the Department for Dealing with Demonic Disasters."

"The Department of _what_?"

"Apparently, its quite new. They brought it in to combat You-Know-Who, 'cos of the Dementors, see? Any creature opposing us, it decides how to dispose of them, and gives advice how to deal with demons and magical creatures, to everyday wizards."

"Right," said Harry, frowning. How could you possibly deal with something as powerful and dangerous as a Dementor?

"And, apparently," Ron shuddered, "he's got dragons on his side. Yes I _know_ you can't _tame_ dragons," he added, seeing Harry's confused look, "but You-Know-Who's strength is being underestimated. He's using something similar to the Imperius curse but this one can control creatures. It must be really powerful - nothing can get through dragon hide, you know."

Harry did know. Several years' back he came face to face with a Hungarian Horntail. 

"He must've developed it himself, there's no spell like that written down anywhere in illegal, or legal spell records."

"How could you develop a whole new spell?" Harry wondered aloud.

"It's simple for a powerful wizard, if they study hard enough." replied Ron in mild surprise. Harry thought briefly for a moment how much he had just sounded like Hermione then. "All they have to do is to"

"Ron, Harry, come over here," Mr Weasley called, interrupting them as they drew near to the fire. "We'll be going in a particular order: Fred and George first, then Ron, then you Harry, and I'll be apparating. Everyone got that?"

Harry suddenly wheeled round. "Where's Ginny and Mrs. Weasley? Percy?"

"Don't you worry, Harry, Molly and Ginny decided to stay at Kyle's earlier than we did, because of the noise, but the boys stayed here with me to keep an eye on things. Percy's working full-time at the Ministry now," Said Mr. Weasley. Go on, Fred, George."

"Me and Fred have been working on some great stuff for the shop," said George. "Harry, you'll test them out, won't you?"

"Okay," said Harry, grinning back at the twins as they stepped into the fire. Fred and George both held a trunk between them, and both yelled at the same time.

"Cherry Manor!" both of them vanished.

Ron walked up. "Cherry Manor!" - he too disappeared.

Mr Weasley smiled. "I was going to tell you where it was sooner, but I guess you know "Cherry Manor" might be my friend Kyle's place?"

"Yeah," said Harry happily. He stepped into the fire again. "Cherry Manor!" In a whirl of colour, the kitchen, the dusty living room and white-robed wizards, the Burrow, vanished from view, and Harry felt himself spinning. Two Floo powder trips did no favours for his stomach.

Harry felt himself fall out of a fireplace into a room. He prepared for himself to hit the floor, but surprisingly he felt a very soft landing. He blinked. He had landed on some red velvet cushions. Harry blinked again, and looked up. Mr. Weasley was pulling him to his feet, in what was a grand looking room. There were giant oak panels on the walls, huge portraits hanging on the wall, and beautiful ornate lights hanging from the dazzlingly white ceiling. The room was as wide as a swimming bath. Harry's jaw dropped, and he was totally unable to speak.

"Harry!" That wasn't Ron, nor was it any familiar voice. Harry looked to his left, to see a man smiling at him. He was quite young, before his thirties but well past his teens. With brown hair sleeked back with gel, wearing bright purple robes that were made of some sort of satin material, for they shimmered with each movement he made, or they could've been charmed. The smile of the man was a kind one. He had a neat set of teeth, and a hand with one huge gem ring on it, as he extended it to Harry's, and shook it firmly. "Bless my soul, Harry Potter," the man said, in slight awe. "Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Kyle Flian, and welcome to Cherry Manor." His voice was friendly; it was the voice of someone relaxed, but with a good upbringing. It seemed an unusual combination. "I daresay you'll want to see your rooms and get rid of your luggage?" Kyle addressed the room. Harry smiled appreciatively. He hated the way everyone stared at his forehead for as long as they could, but Kyle seemed to consider all his guests equally. As Kyle's head turned about the room, everyone nodded politely. "Very well, it's up that stairway there, you can't miss your rooms," he said, a twinkle in his eye, seeing the Weasleys jaws much the same as Harry's.

"Thankyou, Kyle," said Mr. Weasley, politely. "It's really been quite hectic, what with the builders"

"Quite alright, Arthur - how is the building work going along? I must say, really, you got me out of a tight spot with that carpet thing - I simply had no idea it was classed as a muggle artefact" Mr. Weasley and Kyle engaged in conversation. Ron, Fred and George turned to Harry.

"C'mon, let's go!" Said Ron, his eyes shining. "If this is the living room, our rooms must be like small palaces!"

"They may not be, Kyle might be like Scrooge," whispered Fred with a snigger, before staring at Harry. George suddenly followed suite and looked at Harry.

"You have no idea what we've done with that money," he said in a hushed tone. It was obvious they had been itching to say this for ages. "You really have no idea. It's been amazing."

"We were really tempted to blow it on some stuff we've always wanted for ourselves"

"A new broomsticknew robes"

"Ever-bashing boomerangsa lifetimes supply of Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans"

"But, we've restrained ourselves, and bought load of stuff for the joke shop," said George.

"We checked all the legal stuff, and we actually now own a shop!" said Fred excitedly.

"Where?" asked Harry in amazement. The Weasleys had been selling their goods for ages, trying to rake up some money, but at last their hard work seemed to be paying off.

"Well, we have one down Diagon ally at the moment but we're planning to open a second store, we still have 300 galleons left"

"And, I'm also earning money too," Ron grinned. "I help them with the home order catalogue - you know, send tricks, and trick-letters, through owl post. Some of it's brilliant - we've yet to advertise it all, though - but we've apparently had some customers already - down Diagon Alley, that is!"

"Wow," said Harry. "Has it been easy?"

"Mostly," said Fred. "Even mum didn't make any more fuss, after we showed her our potential profits list. We've worked it out - we've found all sorts of tricks to make our products of quality - and pricing them reasonably, we'll be gaining 35 galleons a week!

"_Each_," breathed George, with a shudder, a misty look to his eyes.

"We've calculated it all - including good seasons and bad - 140 galleons in two weeks7000 in a year"

"'Course, we have to pay off our staff, so that's minus a few hundred galleons"

"I get the idea," said Harry, smiling at their elated happiness, and the way the words had fell from their mouths in the never ceasing torrent.

"Sorry, Harry, if we went off a bit then, but it's all waiting to be achieved," said George dreamily.

"We'll be able to get a place to stay once we've earned enough money - our own home." Said Fred gleefully. "We'll be able to leave fake wands wherever we like, and set off fireworks, and"

"That's what I've been meaning to ask you all!" said Harry suddenly.

"What?" said Ron, confused.

"Your rooms, boys!" said Kyle amiably, bringing them all back to their senses. They had arrived in a long corridor. "The twins, here's your rooms - " he pointed to two doors - "erRon, isn't it? Here's your room, and Mr. Potter, you're next door to him. Arthur, your room is same place as last time, just up there a little I'll leave you to unpack, if you like, and then please meet me outside; Arthur knows the way."

"Unpack, boys!" said Mr. Weasley cheerfully, walking into a door further up on the right.

Harry put his hand to his door, when suddenly he heard a faint gasp to his left, and a tug at his sleeve. Harry looked crossly at Ron, but Ron's mouth was open, his eyes staring vacantly into his room. Harry peered round and stared too.

It was _huge_. Even a 5 star hotel room would have trouble to compete with this. The walls were oak, but pictures hung on the walls, the carpeting was a deep wine red, the ceiling held a small chandelier, and there were some beautiful carved cupboards and drawers in the room. There was a huge, soft looking bed with immaculate red sheets on it.

"Wow," muttered Ron.

"Fantastic," said Harry in agreement.

"What about your room?" said Ron suddenly. "Quick, let's see!"

Harry's hand impatiently tugged the doorknob, frantic to open it, and Ron began to pull wildly at it too. After a moments confusion and scrabbling, Harry then realised it needed to be pushed, he used all his strength and fell through the doorway with Ron. His feet clattered on the floor as Ron slammed into his back; evidently it wasn't carpet.

It was a white marble, glinting. Harry could see his reflection in it. He too, had drawers and cupboards, but his were made of a darker wood than Rons'. Harry's bed had white sheets, and the ceiling held not a chandelier, but a beautiful paper lamp, like someone with the tiniest fingers had cut it out with tiny scissors. Harry stepped further in, awestruck, and peered into a smaller room that led off his room. It was the bathroom. It was brilliant white, with a bath like a small swimming pool, and some expensive looking decoration. Even the prefect's bathroom, which Harry had once sneaked in at Hogwarts, paled next to this.

"How did Flian afford all this?" asked Harry, his eyes roving.

"Well, he had a wealthy family anyway, but he went from strength to strength - he started out as a receptionist and now works for a highly demanded part of the Ministry now - they say that he might become the next Minister for Magic, that is, if he applies."

"Cool," muttered Harry vaguely. Suddenly, he shook his head vigorously. He couldn't look around with his mouth open all the time; he would look quite stupid. He frowned, trying to contort his face back to his regular look. He turned and smiled at Ron, who smiled back. Suddenly, the whole house didn't make them fell like they were going to drown anymore.

"I should ask dad to let us stay at Flian's more often," said Ron with a freckled smile. "I'm going to unpack."

"See you in a minute!" Harry called as Ron returned to his room. Harry dug through his trunk. He had placed Hedwig's empty cage by the window, and his trunk beside it to make her feel more at home. Harry felt pretty sure that, if he were an owl, a place like this would appear pretty daunting.

Harry piled all his clothes into his drawers tidily. He looked into the mirror, and attempted to flatten his hair for a few seconds, before giving up, knowing it never remained flat. However, he was about to put some water on it to smarten himself up when the mirror said, in a gentle voice, "Don't worry about it dear, it looks lovely just as it is. You look right handsome, don't make a fuss."

Harry smiled, more in amusement of the flattering mirror than what it's comments were. Stepping in front of the mirror, he checked his clothes were neat, not that they ever were, being Dudley's over-sized shirts. He pulled it a bit in an attempt to make it fit, which sort of worked. Where he had bent a little, his fringe flew in front of his glasses. Harry swept his fringe back. A shock ran through his body.

His scar had vanished.

Harry blinked in disbelief. He pressed his hand to his forehead. Not a bump, not a cut. Completely smooth. Harry stared for a few seconds more.

"_Ron_!"

"Harry, what's - ?"

"My scar! My scar!"

"It's not hurting you again, is it?" Ron stepped into Harry's room as Harry wheeled round. Ron blinked.

"It's gone!" Harry said excitedly.

Ron looked even more confused. Harry looked back into the mirror. The scar was still there, protruding where his fingers were resting on his forehead. "Huh? But I looked and"

"Maybe it was trick of the light," suggested Ron.

"I felt it," Harry said. "I put my fingers on it. My skin was smooth. There was no scar just then."

Ron looked sceptical, and Harry felt disappointed.

"I believe you," said Ron slowly.

"You do?" said Harry in relief. 

"Sure I do. I don't think you would have dragged me out of my room just to annoy me, would you?" said Ron smiling, but then it vanished. "Buthow could it have justgone?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "But I know it wasn't my imagination."

"I think I saw it too," said Ron. "Really - you turned round, and I looked at your forehead, and it was blank - but then when you faced me, it was there."

Harry sighed. "Never mind. You unpacked?"

"Yep," said Ron. "Let's go find my Dad."

Both of them ran out into the corridor, looking for Mr. Weasley, who smiled at them.

"We're just waiting for Fred and George now," he said, rubbing his hands together. "They've bought loads of things." He bent down to the boys and said in a whisper: "just don't tell Molly that they've taken half their joke shop here too!"

Harry and Ron grinned, but then were startled when an almighty BANG shot from Fred's room. Sparks flew out of the doorway. They all stared in shock, when Fred's head peered round the doorway. His face was bright red, like his hair.

"Sorry prototype fireworkgot loose" he muttered. George's head peered round and grinned at Fred.

"Are you two ready now?" asked Mr. Weasley impatiently.

"Where we going, anyway?" asked George, as Fred walked back into his room to pick up the firework pieces.

"I think Kyle wants to tell you some basic rules - George's face fell - "then we'll have tea, and then Kyle says he'll let you run amok in the grounds." George's face perked up again, and Fred walked out, looking pleased too.

"Right, all set, let's go!" said Mr. Weasley happily. He strode down the corridor, and all of them followed. Mr. Weasley kept up an interesting commentary all the way, showing them the rooms as they passed. "Here's the spare rooms, like we have, then over here is a store roomah, here's one of his workrooms, for potion-making over there is his study, to do work from home don't forget, this door here when you want to return to your rooms"

They continued much this way until Mr. Weasley led them to a door, which opened from both ends. It was wide.

"This leads to the dining room," Mr. Weasley pronounced. He swung the doors open. This room was as large as any other, and there was a table situated there, where Mrs. Weasley gave a kind wave, Ginny smiled, and Kyle stood up, and said, "come, come, Arthur, sit down, wherever you like, boyschoose whatever you want!" Harry sat down, Ron on his right, Mrs. Weasley on his left, and Fred and George opposite him. Ginny peered at Harry from around Mrs. Weasley. The moment Harry saw her, she sat bolt upright again.

Kyle looked firmly at his plate. "Beef stew!" he pronounced. Harry watched the plate - nothing happened. Ron nudged his elbow and pointed somewhere. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed everyone else looking elsewhere as well. Feeling foolish from his mistake, Harry watched too, as a large silver bowl floated eerily to Kyle's plate. The platter took itself off, and Harry could see steam rising from its depths. It had a huge silver ornate spoon in it, and the spoon began to ladle stew onto Kyle's plate, with great care. Kyle gave a little polite cough. "Thankyou," he said. The spoon stopped at once, and zoomed straight back through a door in the far corner of the room.

Mr. Weasley shouted "tomato soup!" and another bowl floated out. Now that he had grasped the idea, Harry shouted out his meal, and he heard Ron shouting his. It was strange to watch the plates and bowls fly out of what was presumably the kitchen.

Harry only once had an accident. He had shouted "treacle tart!" and when it was ladling out custard to go with it, the bowl had accidentally hit Harry in the side of the head, making him wince a little. The bowl, unfortunately, having good manners, had bowed to Harry in apology, and spilt some custard on the floor. Harry was embarrassed.

"Not to worry, Harry," said Kyle, laughing. "It's happened before - I wanted a polite dish set, so I chose the top of the range - they've always been a bit like that. Not even as _half_ as terrible as the time as an important ministry official came here - you see, my dishes will not tolerate bad language - and when she was referring to a plate of strawberry tarts on the table, one of the spoons whacked her around the head."

Everyone sniggered, though they tried to fight it. "Don't worry, it was very funny," said Kyle. "She was a miserable old bat anyway."

Soon, the plates were empty as were stomachs full. Automatically, the dished flew away from the table and through the door, looking like flying saucers.

"Right, to business," said Kyle firmly. "Okay, now, the ladies and Arthur already know the rules round here, but you boys don't, so I'll make it quick.

Right, rule number one: don't go into my study without my permission, because all my work is in there. Rule number two: don't do anything that might perk up muggle attention outside.

Rule number three: have fun here! I don't want to ever see you bored," Kyle said, smiling round the table, "if you ever feel bored, or not sure what to do, come and ask me. I have some secret rooms around the mansion, and I've all sorts of great games - anyone ever seen a game of giant gobstones?"

"Wow - you mean, the ones you can climb inside and bash each other with?" asked Ron eagerly in excitement.

"Yes," said Kyle. Everyone looked at each other excitedly. Harry had never seen giant gobstones, but it did sound fun. "I also have some more games and things - well, I wouldn't want to ruin any surprises right now. Now, is there anything else I wanted to say? Oh yes make sure you tell me before you go out of cherry manor, because I want to keep track of where you all are." Kyle paused in thought. "Right, that's it. Boys, do you want to go explore the grounds?"

"Sure, Mr. Flian," said Fred and George excited.

"Off you go then," said Kyle. The Weasleys and Harry all stood up, and the boys all dashed upstairs, Ginny lagging behind.

"Come on Harry - you've got to test out some of our merchandise!" said George, tearing to his room.

"Yeah," said Fred, "you're going to love it."

"Love what?" asked Harry.

Harry watched Fred and George despair into their rooms, and watched them rummage through their cases. They both came out with armfuls of different gadgets.

"Right - outside!"

Harry stood in the garden, and admired the pretty plants, and high climbing creepers and rose bushed. The walls were very high, like a top security prison, but the plants and trailing flowers took the emphasis of prison away from it. The garden was also very big, like a very small football pitch, so the sun shone around. Harry could imagine a great game of Quidditch here.

"Here you go, Harry," said Fred, sifting through the pile he and George had dumped on the grassy lawn. Harry took what Fred handed over. It looked like a Christmas cracker.

"Bit out of season, I know," said George, "but this isn't a normal cracker."

"Pull it," Ron urged, Ginny nodding furiously beside him.

Harry handed one end to Ron, and they tugged. Harry got the biggest end, and just as he slipped his hand inside, suddenly the cracker said:

"What do you call a fat hag? A hog!"

"I know it's a crummy joke," said Fred, "but we needed to test it first."

"It's great," said Harry. "They'd be quite popular - mind you, at Hogwarts, you'd have to stick your ear right next to the cracker to hear it."

"Good point," said George. "We'd better make small packs, Fred - they definitely aren't designed for large parties."

"Next one, then," said Ron. "Go on, show Harry the button joke!"

"Right," said Fred. He pulled out a large decorative tile with a big button in the middle, with writing on it: _DO NOT PRESS._

"What you do, is you pin it on a wall in an obvious place, and wait for someone to push it," explained George.

Harry had a bad feeling about it, but he pushed the button anyway. Suddenly, the button transfigured no a long tongue, and it licked his hand, and then began to lick his face.

"Errrrrrgh!" Harry said, covering his face with his arm. The long red tongue shrunk back into a button.

The Weasleys were laughing.

Ginny suddenly said, "That wasn't a nice one. Show Harry the lollipop ones! They're funny."

"Harry - suck this pop," said George, handing Harry an innocent looking lollipop. "Don't worry, you won't turn into a canary"

Harry sucked it for a few seconds, everyone staring eagerly. Harry didn't feel any different, and the lolly tasted alright.

"Nothing's happening," he said. It was definitely not his voice that came out. It was deep, like a barbershop voice. "Ahh! What's happened to my voice?!" he said, it suddenly leapt from deep all the way to mouse-squeak high. The Weasleys laughed. "Keep talking!" Ron said, over the laughter, "it'll do all sorts of strange things!"

Harry began to speak, and his voice did all sorts of bizarre sounds. At one point he tweeted like a bird, next moment he did a roar like a lion, then he talked like a person with a strong Irish accent, then everything he said came out in Gobbledegook, and after a minute of giggles, Harry's voice returned to normal.

"Right," said George, "Fred - get the best one of the lot."

"We've spent ages on this one," said Fred. "It's a real beauty." He pulled out a hand mirror. "We do have a full length one, but it was too heavy to bring, besides which it cost a lot to develop and we didn't want it broken."

Harry looked into the mirror, and he had long eyelashes and curly hair. Worst still, his hair was blond. Everyone looked in at Harry's face and laughed. "It's different every time you look," said Fred. "I once had fangs and a hunched back."

"And lipstick," reminded George. Harry pulled the mirror from his face, and looked in again. This time, he had a green mohican, and his eyes were pink. Harry looked again, and his hair was matted and greasy, and his eyes were black and his skin looked gaunt.

"Hey Ron - it's professor Snape!" everyone laughed. "I don't want to use that mirror anymore," said Harry with a shudder. "I hate the idea of looking like him. What else you got?"

"Ah-ha, we have exploding toffees, that blow up when you've sucked them down far enough"

"We also have curse shooters, bit like pea shooters but instead it hits you with a random weak curse"

"Exploding wands but we're not going to show you that, not after what happened to the house."

"We also have reverse-attach ropes - you put it firmly in the ground and you can climb up it - also slip-up ones just always make you slip just as you're near the top"

"Sounds like you've been busy," Harry commented.

"I know, they spent even more time than Percy locked in their room making all that," said Ron.

"Right, so that's that. Who wants a game of Quidditch?" All of them laughed, looking forward to the summer days ahead.

Chapter 3 - Flian's Trial

Harry had spent the last few days having a wonderful time. Kyle Flian lent them some Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One broomsticks, which they flew, having a wonderful time. Ron was the most pleased as his old Comet went nowhere near as fast and steering it was even worse. Harry used his trusty Firebolt, of course - even though models of broomsticks had long caught up, Firebolts were still used, and were still a good broom.

Harry also had told Sirius where he was. Harry wondered if he'd send a message back, but he was having far too much fun to worry about anything.

One day, Harry walked past Mr. Weasley, who looked troubled, and on closer inspection, seemed to be shaking a little.

"Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked politely. Mr. Weasley smiled.

"II just need to sit down," he said weakly. "Just a shock, that's all" a copy of the Daily Prophet lay in his right hand.

Harry took the newspaper from Mr. Weasley as he handed it to Harry.

"Just read front page" he breathed. Harry read down the page, and a huge picture of a Dementor was rammed on the page, walking forward eerily.

_Spies in our Safety!_

__

_Daily Prophet reporters can reveal that there are definitely spies within the Ministry,_ it read. _Mr. Archibald Polius, a young receptionist working at the department of demonic disasters, has been found after being missing for 48 hours. Unfortunately, we regret to say, Dementors had beaten us to him he is unable to speak of what happened to him. Kyle Flian had spoken to one of our undercover agents last week, stating that "Archibald was a hard worker, and one day came across one of my restricted files I put in the wrong drawer. I asked him not to repeat what he had seen in there. No one but me was in the office at that time." _

_Could it be the man working against the Dementors could be aiding them in getting rid of who might embarrass him? The Daily Prophet has no evidence against Kyle Flian, but he is already discussing with Ministry officials on what may have caused this dreadful event to occur _

Harry stopped reading and looked up at Mr. Weasley. 

"Poor Kyle, he'd never have done anything, yet it's making it look like he set a Dementor on Polius! Kyle Flian would never do something as treacherous, so low, so foul" Mr. Weasley banged an empty chair angrily, making Harry jump. Mr. Weasley was never seen so angry.

"But I tell you something, those Death Eaters are going to meet their downfall one day if Voldemort can be beaten once, he can be beaten again"

Harry squirmed uncomfortably. It was only by luck last time Voldemort fell - at the expense of Harry's family.

"Mr. Weasley?" he asked.

Mr. Weasley relaxed a little. "Sorry, Harry, it was just well anyway, what is it?"

"Umm where's Mr. Flian now?"

Mr. Weasley sighed. "He's in trial. I know he's going to win, but it's a horrible thing to accuse him of."

Harry nodded, and then decided it was best to leave quietly.

"Oi! George! Catch!" George threw a Quaffle to Fred. Ginny was wobbling unsteadily on her Nimbus.

"Shame we can't get some Bludgers out here," Fred sighed, catching the Quaffle and throwing it to Ron. "Ginny'd sure learn how to fly faster."

"Thanks, Fred." Ron shouted as the Quaffle nearly knocked him off his broom. "Who needs Bludgers when I have you? Hey, Harry!" 

Harry had grabbed his Firebolt, and had kicked off into the air. "Where've you been, Harry, we started without you!"

"Busy," said Harry. "You'll never guess what I've just found out" Harry told them what The Prophet had been saying. He also told what Mr. Weasley said to them.

"Kyle Flian? Work for You-Know-Who? Are the Ministry balmy or what?" Fred said disbelievingly. "Huh! The number of times he's given speeches how to look out for the Dark Mark and its not like he's tried to bump Harry off whilst he's been here, is it?"

"Fred!" Ginny exclaimed angrily.

"Sorry, Ginny," muttered Fred.

"I don't think it was Kyle either," said Ron. "I wonder what the top-secret files were?"

"Go ask Kyle," said George.

"As if he'd really tell us," said Ron sarcastically.

"Never mind, the only thing I'm worried about is if Kyle loses his case - I'd hate to think he'd go to Azkaban," said Harry.

"Yeah, he wouldn't even be able to dole advice on how to stop Dementors, now that the Dementors have gone," said Fred.

"What's at Azkaban now?" Harry asked.

"All sorts, they've tried - hit wizardsI think its trolls they're using at the moment," said George. "Silly thing to do really - trolls are stupid. Wonder what it'd be next?"

"Boggarts, I expect," said Ron. "Or Blast-Ended Skrewts."

"Yeah - I haven't heard anything from Hagrid for ages," said Harry thoughtfully. "Or Hermione. Wonder what creature - I mean, monster is Hagrid going to give us next year?"

"A Hungarian Horntail project," said Fred solemnly. Everyone laughed.

"Wish I was still there now," Fred sighed. "I'd never thought I'd want to go back and do more work, but it's weird, seeing you lot go off to Diagon Alley every year without us."

"Still, this year we'll be there, running our shop," George grinned.

"Can we go back in the air again now?" asked Ginny crossly.

"Sure, Ginny," said George. "Race you!"

"That's not fair!" Ginny said in annoyance, as George was already on his broom. "First one to hex George gets 3 Galleons!"

And suddenly, the air was filled with shrieks as George flew as fast as he could, chased by the other boys and Ginny all brandishing their wands.

Next chapters coming soon, folks! Please review and give suggestions - is there something you don't like/understand? Anything you'd like to see? I already have an outline for the plot, but if you want to see Draco Malfoy dead...... ;)


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